A Valley and A View

The light in the sky signals the end of Winter and the return of color is underway. It is a special time of the year when the days start to get longer. People venture out more. I think we meet twice as much dogs on our walks these days, as we did during Winter.

All of us can have strong feelings around a change of seasons, a certain holiday, or a time of year.

Keep On Smiling

It's very difficult to be sad with Tilde around.

We had a bad week over here. First, we learned that Kenzo's best friend Joska the Viszla had passed. Then our cat, Jule, also passed.

Loss had hit once more, and we were automatically drawn to travel to the West-coast. Away from human troubles and every day life. In a place that for us like no other embodies the end of the world, and where nature does its work of repairing the soul. Maybe we could pick up a sign from Joska and Jule they were ok, once we were there, too.

A Poem For Viva: In Time We Froze

The "Shitbag" Checklist

If you have been reading Jan's Chickenshit post, well, Tilde wasn't finished with us yet. And this time, she was caught on camera.

I was looking forward to the weekend, and also to meet Emil in person - as Jan mentioned in her post, we were spending a weekend with friends we know for quite a while from FB - I always followed Emil's story on Dina's FB page, and watched him grow from a shy and insecure puppy mill dog, into a happy and thriving Hovawart.

Chickenshit

Today I turn the blog over to Jan Wolfe about what should have been a textbook display of Tilde managing the "Leave It" command.

Note to self, never go on a weekend with a blogging friend.

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It started out as a quiet Saturday afternoon walk in the woodland surrounding our rented cottage at Henne Strand – six humans and three dogs enjoying the warm September weather and each other’s company.  The dogs were sniffing in the undergrowth and reading the various scents as we would read a newspaper.  We humans were chatting about this that and the next thing and enjoying the meeting that we had looked forward to for months.  As we walked, we passed numerous cottages, each of which we admired and passed comment about, and wished that we owned or at least could live in.

Run, Kenzo, Run!

It is such a beautiful sight. To see Kenzo run. After last month's failed attempt, we made some great progress. There is still a small limp sometimes, but he can correct it himself now, by choosing another pace, or with my help through some stretching. And we don't leave the door before we have done our warning-up.

I also saw him do his special prancing pony imitation again. A wonderful sight.

About Blue Flag Emergencies and Feeling Naked Around Nudists

Right after hitting the beach, we went down to the water's edge. The weather was so hot, Kenzo and Tilde needed to be cooled down, as soon as possible. I noticed a lot of people still took their dogs down to the beach, even though a week earlier the news came out, all dogs should be banned from Blue Flag beaches.

The Blue Flag indicates the beach and water is clean enough for tourists to enjoy, but some bureaucrat somewhere dug up a WHO report, that dogs foul the beaches, and they weren't allowed on Blue Flag beaches anymore. Just like that.

Coffee Please

"Tilde? Tilde!", I shouted, to no avail. Tilde disappeared around the corner at the end of the driveway, barking at whatever it was she had laid her eyes on. Beyond that corner, only miles and miles of heath-fields and dunes followed. My stomach knotted up when I started running down the driveway.

Run, Stumble and Fall

Two comments Kenzo's surgeon made after his tendon surgery, regularly wake me up in the middle of the night, as in a nightmare. "Some never recover." was his most famous quote. When I asked questions, he downplayed it.

"Some need the same surgery over and over." was the next. Apparently, when you don't find the cause of why his tendon was injured in the first place - and keep on doing what you are doing - it is likely to come back. Which made sense, but what was the culprit?

A Little Tree On The West Coast

We laid Viva's ashes to rest under a little tree we planted on the corner of our property on the West-coast, overlooking her beloved heath fields. The West-coast, with its rough and harsh nature, was contradictory the only place where a vulnerable soul like Viva could feel genuinely safe and be happy, all day long. I couldn't think of a better place, as the West-coast was where she thrived most.

Feeling Thankful

We return to the West-coast coming Friday. There is a lot I have to look forward to. Kenzo is fit enough. It will be Tilde's first visit. Viva will be there, waiting for us. And this time, also a first, we'll have our own little place to share.

Viva Sunday #11: One More Easter Egg

I couldn't even have imagined adopting a dog, just a week ago.

When I rewind to the week just before Easter, instead of looking forward to some time off during those public holidays, I was bracing myself.

Viva Sunday #8: The Dream

We had a dream. When we learned how much Viva loved the Danish West-coast and its open spaces, we laid down a plan to change our lives. A plan to sell the business and create more time, and move with the family to the West-coast.

It was a dream where Viva could dash through the dunes and heath fields of the West-coast together with Kenzo, free of the day-to-day fears she suffered from a life in the city. We even dreamed of spending our holidays traveling along the whole length of the Wadden Sea shores, from the north in Holland, through Germany, to the south in Denmark, with its amazing nature, wild-life and abundance of open spaces.

We thought we had time, but as you know, we ran out of it far too soon.

The master plan, Viva's plan, was set in motion long before she passed and is rolling still, up to this day. My business is sold. We are looking at places to live. It is bitter sweet. We measure homes up to Viva's standards. She would have loved that view... She would have loved to have those heath fields in her "backyard"...

Was it Viva's gift to the family to guide us down this path? Or are we trying to live a life that is no more? I believe it was Viva's gift but I am aware I still can't see clearly. The family is split. And I am told it would be a real possibility I'll find myself waking up every day, not on the West-coast, but in a place that will only be a harsh reminder of the fact Viva is no longer with us.

It is difficult to see how much of the plan was for us all, and how much of it was for Viva. Our lives were so intertwined, it is impossible to dissect what part of the dream was for who.

I am told too, I need more time. More time to see clearly. More time to figure this out. But my relationship with time is tensed, because of Viva. Those three years we were given were over in a heartbeat. Isn't time measured while you wait, and seem to play no role when you move ahead, follow your instincts and your heart, bringing you to places where things happen you never expected.

Still, the doubts I have do show, I am slowly waking up from my dream, the dream I had for Viva. Waking up I hope, will give room to a new dream.

Chasing Sunsets

Three weeks of going in Viva's footsteps are coming to an end. We visited Denmark, Holland and Germany. I dread the upcoming return to daily life. In which I am sure to utterly fail, for a while to come.

A good friend popped the question, which I knew had to come one day, "Why are you doing this to yourself?". She wondered why I prolonged my grief by three weeks. Why couldn't I let go. Wasn't it better to try to move forward?

I didn't answer, although I thanked her silently for being worried about my mental state of health. And I couldn't answer because I wouldn't even know how to answer that question. I don't know what's best. I wouldn't recommend anything we did during Viva's passing to anybody, as grief is a personal process. I can only say I followed my heart, as that is where Viva is. And following it, is therefore the closest I can get to her. Grief follows no logic.

My 5-year old "grand-daughter" - it would take too long to explain our exact relationship - seems to get that. When she visited us with her family on one of the days we were at the West-coast, she brought gifts for Kenzo and Viva, even though her family explained beforehand Viva was in heaven. Not that her family is religious, but how do you explain to a 5-year old, that one of the dogs she grew up with is no more. Heaven is handy, also for the not-religious.

And while the family was busy shopping, I was anxious we couldn't make it to see the sunset. Something I always did with Viva on our trips. With only half-an-hour to go, I explained them I had to go now, to chase sunsets with Viva, and a little hand grabbed mine, saying she wanted to join.

It didn't make sense to the family and I understand that. Yet, I also know it did make sense to me and a 5-year old. We watched a beautiful sunset, and silently missed Viva together. The little girl had an awesome day visiting a swimming hall, play-ground, got presents and candy. When her mother called at the end of the evening to ask how her day has been, she never mentioned any of that: "We are missing Viva. She is in heaven now you know." Grief has no age.

Being spiritual or religious has never been me either. But I have to admit, the last three weeks have been a very spiritual voyage. It became a pilgrimage. Even though I didn't seek it. It just happened. Or?

Another good friend, although "virtual" this time, told me how her dog let her know she was alright after she passed. That was a beautiful thought to me. But me not being spiritual or religious, would I even notice? Would I miss it, when Viva would try to tell me she was alright?

A rainbow appeared out of nowhere, when we approached the very first beach of the trip. It sent chills down my spine, immediately followed by a warmth, I never felt before.

"Hello Viva", I whispered, smiling.

Maybe I was seeking it after all. Grief can adjust the image you have of yourself. At least, it was a wonderful feeling to see that rainbow, and I needed it to be Viva.

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Tour de Viva with a Clumsy Casanova

This Tour is for me, now Kenzo is doing good so soon - more about him later - and I would really want to return to the places Viva enjoyed so much on our travels, and remember some of the best memories we have of her.

She was never a fan of driving in a car, but the destinations we chose always made it up to her in tenfold. She loved to dash on the beaches of the North-Sea and dip her toes in the water while harassing Kenzo. She could hike the West-Danish heath fields and the Norwegian tundra's endlessly, while scanning the horizon on the hunt for game, and enjoying the simple fact she was on an adventure, alone with her family. And at the end of the day, enjoy a quiet sunset with us.

We are packing, and leave for a 3-week road-trip in Viva's footsteps. Except Norway, that's too cold this time of the year, even for us. I think it would be great to do now, and not wait, as it still feels like she is with us every moment of our daily life. There is not a walk we have, or a cup of coffee we can drink for that matter, where we not think about, what Viva would have done at that moment. Memories are good, at least for me, I cherish them, and try to write down as many as I can. She still makes me laugh, like she always has.

It is not very well-planned, thought-through, and a spur of the moment thing. But that's me. And now Kenzo is doing so much better, I am allowed to be myself.

Yes, Kenzo. He bounced back remarkably soon, and I can only be happy for that. I like to think that some of the additional things I did might have helped him a lot. One of them was to take him with me everywhere, I haven't left him a minute alone since Viva passed. The other thing was to stake-out the trails of all his former sweethearts.

What can I say, he loved it, and so did the girls. He immediately started to "protect" them as well, in typical Kenzo-style. Sometimes I wonder if the vet actually forgot something while neutering him, or Kenzo hasn't got the memo. Of course, all that showing off and impressing the ladies can backfire, which it also did, when he tripped on a bottle hiding under the leaves in a ditch, underlining his well-deserved nickname of Clumsy Casanova, and finished the trail with a limp.

If Viva would have been with him, she would have never allowed it! Always the clever one.

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Meanwhile, at the West-coast

Kenzo does, what Kenzo likes best:

The best Hovie is a tired, wet - and sandy - Hovawart.
But we are not finished yet, in the evenings, Viva joins:

Now we reached perfection. A bed full of sand.

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A Hovie's Nose

The best summer ever in Denmark. According to meteorologists, the best since 1860.

The summer already started in early May, during our visit to the Danish West-coast. Viva's favorite place on the planet. We enjoyed being outside the whole day. Temperatures where not high, but nonetheless we all got a little sunburned. Also Viva was, on her nose.

The sunburn would soon heal we thought, and hoped the summer would stay, so we could go out into the light again and wash off the Danish winter and its short days.

Now, it is the end of August. We returned to the West-coast, and are looking back at this "best" summer ever. How different has the summer turned out to be. Viva's nose is still "sunburned". The vet thinks it is Lupus (DLE) - also called "Collie Nose" - an auto-immune disease, and in Viva's case, difficult to treat as the medication doesn't go along well with her Cushing's disease. We have been trying three different topical treatments so far that don't interfere with her Cushing's, to no avail.

The vet's best advice was to avoid the sun, as the ultraviolet rays seem to be a main trigger for lupus. We dodged the sun as much as we could in the short sunless window of opportunity, between 23:00 and 04:00, given to us in the South of Scandinavia.

We went for late walks, hunkered inside during the long summer days and only made short trips to potty in areas with an abundance of shadow. It did seem to help to an extend. Although about every two weeks it flared up again to it's worst state.

For us humans it is a strange experience going against the little Nordic voice in our heads telling us to suck up some sun and light now we had the opportunity. Although going nocturnal was counter-intuitive for us humans, Viva really doesn't care when she goes out, as long as she does go out. Her spirit is high, and I wonder how she can. When I look at her nose I know it must itch enough to make one crazy. It must be painful. I don't even have the stomach to add a close-up of her nose to this blog, it looks too horrible.

But somehow Viva sucks it all in and can muster enough fight to remain her cheerful self. Enjoying the little things like she always has. Tough girl.

Two vets and three treatments have not been able to help so far, leaving me in despair and self-hate for not being able to help my girl, and seeing no options other than doing a rain dance and pray this summer will soon end.

Let it storm, rain, hail and thunder. Go away sun and blue skies, you are not welcome any more.

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Viva Making New Friends

We took a little risk on our latest visit to the Danish West-coast by bringing a house guest. It was Joska the Viszla, Kenzo's great pal, stayed with us for the whole week. Viva knows Joska of course, but so far, Joska was only tolerated by Viva if he would show her his most polite behavior. And Joska walked the gauntlet the first two days, his every move sharply observed by Viva. Until Viva de-iced, and welcomed him into the group.

She even played with both Kenzo and Joska on the beaches, when both were engaged in their special edition of fetch, and had great fun when she could snatch a ball or a stick right from under their noses. Of course sometimes she had to assert her rule, but we knew she had found a new friend when Joska was allowed a place on the sofa.

We made long hikes and the Danish West-coast again delivered the three things Viva loves so much. Space, space, and space. This time we landed in Blåvand ("Blue Water"), and compared to the places we visited earlier, Hvide Sande, the beaches were even wider, and compared to Romø, even more empty.


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We thought we hit the jackpot this time with the house we stayed in, as it had no view to either neighbors or nearby paths, so we could let the dogs roam free around the house. We kept them under supervision at all times, but there was no need to leash them or keep them inside because of nearby traffic, we figured. That quickly changed though, when we spotted vipers in the area. The many vipers also made hiking through the dunes and heath fields not as relaxing as usual, so we turned more to the beaches this time.

The leash laws forbid dogs off leash on the beaches this time of year. But like I said before, with so much space and knowing how rarely it happens Viva can go off leash undisturbed for hours, I'd be happy to pay the 260 Euro fine if we would ever get caught.

And Kenzo needs his ocean. The ocean was quite calm this time, but it didn't seem to disappoint Kenzo there were no waves to surf. On the other hand it was great for Viva now, who ventured further and further into the surf, and even got her elbows wet.

Our west-coast trips mean so much for Viva, when she doesn't have to worry about other dogs and scary things that happen. She can finally be "just" another dog, enjoying the small things in life. We'll keep coming back for more of that. At least until I have figured out a way to convince the family we really have to pack our bags and move away from the city.

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There are some more photo's of our trip in this Facebook album.

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Don Kenzote and Lady Viva

As Viva "told" us during our last visit to the island of Rømø, the Danish West-coast is one of her favorite places. With it's large and open spaces, Viva can spider the horizon for anything approaching. She likes early warning best.

When Lady Viva wants it, she gets it.

This time we touched down further north down the West-coast, on a narrow strip of land, dividing the Northsea from Ringkøbing Fjord. It has beaches and sand dunes as long as the eye can see. And although this area is more crowded in the summer, the weather in September only attracts the all-weather die-hards due to the seasonal storms and rapidly dropping temperatures of the approaching autumn. Which in short, is perfect Hovawart weather.


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The ocean was too rough for some actual swimming. The combination of storm and strong currents was simply too dangerous. It was not necessary though, to convince Kenzo & Viva to adopt a stay-on-all-four tactic when venturing into the roaring surf.

Kenzo, still the water rat of the couple, seemed to show the proper respect instinctively. He has experienced being rolled-over by waves before, and probably learned his lesson the hard way already.

At first it made me reluctant to play with him, afraid to throw a tennis ball too far in the surf. Kenzo's enthusiasm cured that quickly.

Throwing not so far was just as much fun. And in the chase Kenzo charged the waves and hunted the foam hovering about. Like a modern day Hovawart version of Don Quixote.

Don Kenzote.

He loves his ocean, the surf, the roaring of the winds, being in the middle of nature. Don Kenzote was in his element.

That's why we ignored the leash laws - it is required for dogs to be on lead until September 31 on all the West-coast beaches.

As I see it, not letting Don Kenzote enjoy his ocean, is downright cruel and I would have payed the fine with pleasure. If I got one. Thankfully that didn't happen.

Of course, we leashed up again when we could see any people approaching. And I must say, other dog owners did that as well, which was great for Viva, so we could pass by in a calm way - meaning a big circle.

Viva was not the least interested in getting wet, as she likes her swimming water nice and calm. And she found a new game for the occasion, to wait until Kenzo got the ball retrieved from the surf, and then steal it from him. The new big hit.

A few toe dips in the shallows was just fine for the Lady. Not that she could keep it very dry, the weather conditions made sure plenty of water came down from the sky. And when we ended up in a hail storm, we were literally washed off the beach.

I asked for Hovawart weather when we left home: "Let it rain! Let it storm!". We were not disappointed.

Today is our last day before we return to Copenhagen. Not only for the dogs, also for us humans there were a lot of things to see and do, like small fishing villages with nice restaurants, together with a lot of history - the remnants of the Atlantic Wall, the many shipwrecks, museums - and art inspired by the elements. I am sure we keep coming back for more.

It's The Environment Stupid

We rented a small house close-by last week's dog show. Honestly, how interesting can a 3½ hour drive and a dog show be for a dog? So the idea was to give Kenzo and Viva a little bit of extra quality time.

The show was in "Skærbæk". See the right of the map below. And we found a nice place on a small Danish island nearby, "Rømø". A 15 minute drive. We never visited Rømø before, and we did a lot of planning on how to make this work for Viva.


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Traveling with Viva is not easy. Her fear of new places and dogs in particular demands some additional planning. Like to make sure the view of the place we stay doesn't have a whole lot of people and dogs go by. Or to find places for walks that are equally undisturbed.

All our worries turned out to be in vain. The island was beautiful and you could walk and see in all directions without meeting people or dogs. And it quickly showed from the first minute we spent outside, how much Viva just loved this place.

The first thing we noticed her do, was her interest to spider the horizon. You could see miles away and it must have comfort her she could scout the country-side ahead and make sure we were as good as all alone.


When we were on the move, she was ahead of us all the time and made her own decisions as to what direction we should go. Yes, this is the same Viva that is always on my side. Or rear. As manipulative humans, we of course took advantage of the situation and let her walk up and down the sand dunes. A great work-out for Viva to strengthen her muscles in the fight against spondylosis.



Even when we had been hiking for more than 2 hours, she kept on going. Independent. And ahead of us at all times. And sometimes she hit the jackpot. A fresh pile of fox poo to role around in! Sorry there is no video of that, although I am glad I could retrace the spot where I dropped the camera every time she did that.


I have never seen Viva take to a new place like this before. As a matter of fact, she even liked it better than the places we usually have our walks. She told me loud and clear: "It's the environment, stupid!".